What an MBA Really Gave Me (And Why HearMeNow Exists Because of It)

I completed the final core module of the ESCP executive MBA last week. And I think its time for some reflection and stock taking about the journey so far. This reflection is not about salary uplift, industry transitions, or the usual LinkedIn triumphs. It’s about something quieter and more personal: how I used the MBA as a way to question the inevitability of my future, and how I became an accidental founder and founded HearMeNow from that question.

Everyone who knows me already knows I’m doing an MBA. However, most people don’t know why I am doing an MBA (maybe even I do not know the reason!). What I have realised in the past year is that the decision has not been simple, nor linear and it is certainly not the standard “MBA changed my career trajectory” story. I remember my MBA admission interview last Sep where I was discussing the reasons for doing an MBA with the members of the panel. And I was honest in my assessment at that time that I was not entirely sure of why I am doing the MBA. I have been wanting to do it for many years and I felt this was the time to do it, otherwise, its likely I would never do it. Towards the end of the interview, one of the members of the panel said to me that most people do an MBA for career uplist, and I on the other hand will likely find that it will transform my thought process. A year down the line, I must agree whole heartedly with that sentiment. It’s a strange feeling to look back and admit: if I hadn’t done the MBA, I would almost certainly not have founded HearMeNow. Not because the MBA taught me how to build a startup, but because it changed who I was just enough for founding to become possible.

The Decision: Not About Money or Management

To put it bluntly, I knew upfront that the MBA was not going to give me a pay bump in the NHS.I had also not considered NHS management actively. And from my deliberations with others who had done an MBA, I knew that I did not need an MBA to transition into the industry, particularly in Europe. I had even done a thorough cost benefit analysis of continuing in the NHS vs transitioning to the industry and concluded that I would need a significant pay bump in the industry to make it worth leaving/losing my clinical identity

So why did I do the MBA?

It wasn’t for a title, promotion, compensation or to become an executive. The truth is much simpler and more honest: I wasn’t sure if I still wanted to be an NHS consultant in 15 years, and I had absolutely no idea what I would do instead.

That kind of uncertainty isn’t dramatic. It’s also not burnout or crisis. It’s more like a quiet awareness that your present trajectory may not satisfy your future self, and I have no alternative mapped out. So, the MBA became a kind of insurance against regret.

Not a guarantee of a new path, but a structured opportunity to explore without dismantling my existing life.

What I Thought I Would Get vs What I Actually Got

I didn’t expect the MBA to deliver some grand revelation. And it didn’t. I did not suddenly discover corporate strategy think, “Ah! This is the missing piece of my life.” The content was definitely interesting in parts. I loved the modules on strategy, financial reporting, marketing and economics. I found some modules repetitive, mainly due to the previous management training received as part of my NHS work. I don’t think I was looking to learn any particular skills and if I have to be brutally honest, most things that you learn in an MBA can be learnt on your own with the resources available online.

Expanding your network is often touted as a big advantage of an executive MBA, particularly from top ranked schools such as ESCP. It is often said that your classmates may be your employers or clients in future. In the past year I have met some very interesting people and I have learnt a lot from their perspective. However, given my clinical background, I never had any illusions of magically meeting people who would reshape my life. And finally, I certainly wasn’t seeking an identity as an “MBA-type professional.”

What I actually got was something more subtle. The MBA gave me a break in an otherwise linear career. It gave me a sanctioned period of uncertainty. This year has given me an excuse to rethink my assumptions. Most importantly, the MBA emerged as a psychological permission slip to experiment.

In hindsight, the MBA’s biggest value was not educational but existential. It created a structured gap through which a different version of myself could emerge.

The Unexpected Identity Shift

I started this journey without any assumptions. However, what I didn’t anticipate was how much the MBA would loosen my attachment to my clinical identity. Being an NHS consultant is not just a job, it is a complete identity structure with its routines, predictability, respect, authority and linear progression. This is not just true for the NHS, but for most medical careers. When you leave medical school, your journey over the next decade is mapped for you- foundation, core medical/surgical training, higher specialist training culminating in becoming a consultant. It is given that if you work hard, pass all exams, do what is required by the system, you will reach this destination. It’s often after one becomes a consultant that many clinicians notice for the first time that their CV looks full, but their calendar feels empty. And at this point people start asking this question- what’s next? But, when you have spent your entire working life inside a system, it is very hard to imagine yourself outside it.

This is where the MBA shifted my perspective. It didn’t push me out of medicine. But it made me realise something quietly profound: I no longer felt fully defined by medicine. And that small crack in identity made room for something new. The MBA did not give me a master plan, a premeditated pivot or a strategic move. It just provided me the space for a different idea to take root. The idea that I could build something. And HearMeNow emerged out of this subtle identity shift. At some point along the way, I caught myself thinking: “HearMeNow is not a project anymore. It’s part of who I am.” It wasn’t always like this.
I didn’t begin the MBA intending to become a founder. I didn’t even see myself as someone who could do it. But now, when I look at my life, HearMeNow is one of the biggest contributors to my identity. Not because of the product, but because it represents autonomy, creativity, systems thinking, meaningful impact, a second professional life and a wider definition of who I am.

It’s strange and humbling to say this, but it’s true: I became a founder before I ever left medicine.

And that shift is irreversible.

The HearMeNow Origin Story Was Not “Planned”

HearMeNow originated serendipitously. I read an article on some of the most promising business ideas in the future decade as part of my assignment for the marketing Module. One of the ideas discussed in the article was the emerging role of AI in the field of mental health. Honestly, I had no idea that AI could have a role in mental health. I had not even used ChatGPT prior to reading this article. This idea caught my attention and I started reading more about this idea. As I read more on this subject, dangers of AI interacting with vulnerable people without clinical supervision started becoming apparent. Naturally, I started thinking what if we don’t block those interactions, but put them under clinical supervision instead? So, I initially, started working on an idea where a therapist could review either the full chats or AI-generated summaries, and is alerted if there are signals of high-risk behaviour. Such a tool would be always available for the client- hence the name HearMeNow!

I started talking to therapists to exploring this idea. In this process, something better happened. I stopped asking therapists what they thought of the above idea, and I started asking them about their pain. This shift changed everything. When I asked: “What do you think of this product idea?”, I got polite, hypothetical answers, vague encouragement & socially acceptable feedback. But when I asked: “Tell me about your pain points and how it affects your life.” I got the truth about therapist burnout, patterns, real-world constraints and language I could build around. That shift from solution-seeking to problem-seeking completely changed the trajectory of HearMeNow. It turned me from someone who wanted to build something for therapists into someone who was building something with their lived pain as the starting point. In this process, HearMeNow became more authentic, clinically relevant and grounded in the pain points that therapists face in their daily life. That’s the moment a startup becomes real.

Why I Didn’t Found HearMeNow Earlier

Now that I am deeply invested in building HearMeNow, I can’t help think, one does not need an MBA to build a product, then why did I not build HearMeNow years ago. Afterall, the pain point articulated by therapists have been present for long. I had the clinical insight. I had the systems thinking. And I understood the inefficiencies. So why didn’t the founder version of me exist earlier? It was not lack of skills, knowledge gap or lack of opportunity. It was more about identity, timing and readiness.

It took me a lot of reflecting to answer this question. But the answer is very simple. I didn’t yet have permission to step outside the system. Medicine rewards stability and punishes deviation. Even dreaming about alternative paths feels disloyal. My identity was still too tightly bound to “doctor”. There was no conceptual space in my mind for “builder” or “entrepreneur”. I hadn’t yet confronted the possibility that my current path might stop fulfilling me. As long as the present is comfortable, there’s no reason to disrupt it. AI wasn’t mature enough. This idea only became executable now. Most importantly, my personal risk calculus had shifted. Previously, the fear of staying still exceeded the fear of trying something new. But now that calculus had shifted. I was no longer beholden to my identity as a “doctor”. I was no longer scared to try something new. The MBA didn’t shift the calculus; it simply created the conditions for my mental frame to shift from someone who lives bound by a system to someone who builds a system.

The Real ROI of the MBA (for me)

So, was the MBA worth it? Not if I evaluate in from a traditional perspective. I am unlikely to achieve a jump in my salary in the short term. I am unlikely to land a new corporate role or a consulting pivot. But, if I look at the ROI from a cliched perspective of its transformative potential, then I would say the ROI has been unequivocally positive. The MBA has not given me a career ladder, a fancy title or a network that changed my life. But it has given me some thing more valuable. It gave me permission to rethink, imagine an alternative future, and explore without apologising. The MBA afforded me the psychological distance to question my identity, the courage to tolerate uncertainty and most importantly the space within which HearMeNow could emerge. The MBA is transformational investment.

No one knows if HearMeNow would succeed, fail, pivot, or transform. But the identity that emerged from this journey is not going away. And that alone makes the MBA worth it.

Closing Thoughts

If you are a mid-career, successful professional who is quietly wondering whether your present self and your future self want the same things, then my story might resonate with you. I didn’t do the MBA to chase a new identity. I did because I sensed the old one might not be enough forever. What emerged was unexpected, unplanned, and deeply meaningful.

The MBA did not change my path; it created just enough space for me to choose a new one. Maybe that is the real purpose of an MBA for people like us, not to give us answers, but to create room for better questions.